My eyes rolled into the back of my head as his throat muscles clenched around my cock. I kept count of how long I stayed there, not wanting to deprive him of air for too long.
Pulling out, I gave him a moment to compose himself.
“Again,” I commanded.
I waited until he held his breath again before pressing into him once more. This time, I pushed as far as I could go. Feeling his lips close around the base of my shaft and his nose bury into my curls, I thanked every god known to man for bringing him to me.
Pulling out of his mouth, I knew I was close. In some part of my brain, I wanted to spill down his throat in some primitive display, but I wanted him to taste my seed on his tongue more. With short, shallow thrusts, I used his mouth for my pleasure.
My lower body tightened as cum shot out of my cock and into his mouth. I felt his tongue dance frantically over my head, savoring every drop that I gave to him. Spent, I pulled my sensitive cock away from him.
Looking down, I eyed his thick, needy cock as it jutted proudly from between his legs.
I can’t let a beautiful thing like that go to waste, I thought as the water washed the sweat from my body.
Getting to my knees with far less grace than Quentin had, I pressed a hand to his chest and pushed him back. His spine arched as his feet beneath him pushed up his hips and cock. He was so damn flexible, a fact I was going to take advantage of later.
Stilling holding him down with a hand to his chest, I wrapped my other hand around his cock and stroked him, and I took his head into my mouth. I flicked my tongue under the flared edge and long his slit, tasting his precum. I moaned at the salty, musky taste of him.
Working his shaft and head at the same time, it wasn’t long until he was coming in my mouth. Taking every drop, I slowed, bringing him back down from the high of his orgasm.
I rinsed off his body and mine. Turning off the water, I helped him out and wrapped a towel around him. I walked him into my bedroom and to his side of the bed. Pulling back the covers, I took off his towel and helped him climb in.
I knew he wanted to serve me, but in this, I was his servant. His aftercare was my right.
Rounding the bed, I climbed in after him and pulled him close.
Chapter Seven
Quentin
I was drifting in and out of consciousness as I tried holding on to my dream.
I was pushing my way through the crowded dance floor to Mr. Chamberlain’s side. People were trying to flag me down left and right, but I ignored them, focused on my destination. And then there he was, waiting for me. He tapped his finger on his knee in time to the music as he scanned the sea of faces around me. His finger stopped as soon as his eyes landed on me. Lifting that graceful hand, he beckoned me to his side.
The light coming in through the bedroom windows hit my closed eyes and propelled me awake. Feeling the silky sheets beneath me, I wiggled my toes against the softness. As soon as my foot brushed against a naked, hairy leg, I froze. Memories of arriving at Mr. Chamberlain’s apartment brushed away the last remaining remnants of my dream and replaced them with reality. And the shower. Muscles low in my belly clenched as I remembered him staring down at me with desire, and dare I say it, a hint of tenderness.
Moving my head slightly, I felt the rigid bicep supporting my neck. And the heat. I could feel the heat radiating from his body as I lay cuddled against his side. I opened my eyes and blinked as I adjusted to the blinding light that bathed the bed in warmth. The first thing I noticed was Mr. Chamberlain. He was lying on his back next to me with his face turned in my direction as if he’d fallen asleep while watching me. He looked so peaceful with my hand resting squarely on his chest, moving up and down with his even breathing.
Loathed to disturbed him but needing to empty my aching bladder, I slowly began to pull away.
He must have sensed my retreat because the arm I’d been lying on curled up around me. Trapped, I looked up and met his steely gaze.
“Where do you think you’re going, little rabbit?” he asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“I need to use the restroom,” I whispered, clenching my thighs together.
“Hurry back.” His arm relaxed, setting me free. “Don’t make me come in after you.”
Jumping off the edge of the bed, I hurried across the room and into the bathroom. I spied my clothes on the floor by the shower. Touching them with my foot, I sighed. They were soaking wet and had already gained that damp clothes smell.
I used the toilet and washed my hands with quick efficiency. After drying my hands on a small towel, I turned back to the door and Mr. Chamberlain. I thought about dallying a moment longer just to get my bearings, but I wasn’t sure how long he’d wait for me to return before coming in after me.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I looked at the bed. Mr. Chamberlain was lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. He’d been staring at the door before I’d opened it so that as soon as I had, his gaze locked with mine. I stopped moving, caught under his spell.
He lifted a hand and summoned me to his side with a wave of his finger. Aware of my nakedness and his as I crossed the room, I climbed back into his bed and slid into the spot next to him that he’d indicated with his hand.
Lazily, he lifted his hand and placed it against the side of my head. He started playing with the short, tiny curls behind my ear.
“How are you feeling?”
I knew better than to brush off his question with polite, meaningless words. Looking inward, I tried to think of a word to describe how I felt as I laid in his bed and in his arms. Only one word came to mind. “Do you remember what you said when you told me about stepping inside The Church for the first time?”
“I said it felt like home.”
Nodding, I leaned forward and rested my head against his chest. “Just like that.”
“Good,” he said as his arm tightened around me in a protective manner.
Pulling back slightly, I lifted my hand and swirled my fingers through the hair on his chest, surprising myself with how at ease I felt in his presence.
I guess that’s what happens when you take a man’s cock down your throat, I thought in wry amusement.
“What else do you have planned today?” I asked, having realized he’d planned everything. Mr. Chamberlain was sneaky like that.
His smirk returned. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
I chuckled. “What are you? Twelve?”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
I laughed at his teasing. “Nolan, stop.”
“Ummm,” he said, continuing his childish game as he rolled over and pinned me to the bed with his hands. “You used my first name. I’m going to tell.”
I giggled as he began dropping kisses to my face and neck, his whiskers tickling my skin. I would have never guessed that he had such a playful side hiding behind his stoic mask.
We stayed in his bed for a while. We kissed and touched, exploring each other with our fingertips. An hour passed, and I began to feel the familiar itch to keep busy rise.
Nolan sensed my restlessness. “It’s time to get a move on,” he said as he slapped my thigh playfully and rolled from the bed.
Flipping to my stomach, I watched Nolan’s back muscles and ass flex as he walked to his closet, still a little surprised that he was mine to ogle.